Marriage
by Briarrows69
Summary: chapter 6 updated! There are many stories in which Harry and Severus get married. Here is my take on how that unlikely union could possibly come about. RomanceHumor
1. Moving In

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this? 

A/N: Just an idea I had. This story is slightly inspired by a movie I saw awhile ago, but I can't remember the name to give it the proper credit. Oh well, the "inspired" part won't come till the end. Hope you like. Feedback is always appreciated. 

**Marriage**

Chapter 1:

"Stupid….sodding…Voldemort…" Harry grumbled to himself as he stuffed his clothes haphazardly into his trunk. Honestly, the man was half dead with no followers; couldn't he give it up already? Okay, so he did have _some _followers, and yeah they were dangerous, but come on? Wasn't quitting school and hiding out in Muggle London a bit extreme?

"It's all for the best, Harry," Dumbledore had said rather superiorly. Of course, if you called twiddling your thumbs while clattering your teeth together because you just ate six Ice Mice superiorly, then yes, that was definitely a smug tone, Harry thought furiously, shoving his old sneakoscope in between his piled under shorts.

"Don't you think your overreacting, Potter? I would have thought the idea of not having to exercise your sorry excuse for a brain and lounging in a Muggle flat would be heaven to you."

Ah yes, forgot to mention that _Snape was to be his baby-sitter. Well, Dumbledore had said 'guardian' but Harry wasn't stupid. _

"No," said Harry. 

"Little snot," said Snape.

*          *          * 

            Snape couldn't help but smirk over the situation. Potter was being an absolute _brat about the whole thing, huffing and grumbling, and generally creating a symphony of brat-ish sounds. In fact, if there was a Concerto a la Brat, Potter would be the composer __and the instrument._

            "Oh, I'm glad _someone's_ getting some fun out of this," Potter said rudely, finally shutting his trunk.

            "Yes, I derive much amusement from your little hissy fits. I plan on laughing at you throughout this entire ordeal," said Snape, raising a mocking eyebrow.

            "Ha, ha. Don't you realize what's going on? We're going to be _living together! And all you can do is laugh?"_

            Snape waved a dismissing hand at the boy's scandalized face. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter, we may be sharing a flat but there will be no cohabitation."

            Potter stared, his eyes going wide then narrow behind his glasses. "Er…doesn't sharing a flat mean cohabitation?"

            "No. I don't plan on socializing with you. I most likely won't see you throughout the day, what with you scampering about."

            Potter glared. "I thought you were supposed to tutor me in Occlumency."

            Snape stopped in mid-smirk.

            "Hah. See?" 

            "……Damn."

*          *          *

            "It's not so bad," Harry commented lightly, looking around the spacious flat. Snape had been right in thinking that it was almost like two flats with a joining kitchen and living room. It was modestly furnished with comfy looking chairs and warm colors.

            "Is it?" said Snape sardonically before striding down the hall to what Harry supposed was a bedroom. "This will be my half."

            Harry rolled his eyes at his professor's imperious tone but otherwise raised no further argument. Sighing, he heaved his trunk to the other bedroom. 'Just like Snape, not to help,' Harry grumbled to himself. He pushed open the door to reveal a cozy looking room, done up in dark emerald green and gold colors, with dark oak furniture. "Not bad." Harry sat his trunk down, cast a quick unpacking spell, then walked into the adjoining bathroom. 

            It was small, but practical, with a nice supply of fluffy towels waiting to be used next to the shower. Harry gave it a nod of approval before turning on his heel and going back to the living room.

            "Snape?" he called. The sound of irritated footsteps graced Harry's ears.

            "What?"

            Harry scowled at the older man's snap, but said nothing of it. "I'm going to the grocery store. Is there anything you wanted?"

            Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "You know where one is?"

            "Of course," said Harry, tossing his head back. "I walked about London a lot during the summer last year. I remember where one is, close to here."

            Snape nodded, but he looked uncomfortable about something.

            "What?" said Harry impatiently. 

            "Should you be going alone?"

            "Do you want to come with me?"

            "No."

            "Well, there you are then." Harry turned to the door.

            "Wait, Potter."

            Harry heaved a sigh. 

            "I'm going with you."

*          *          *

              "Idiotic contraption!"

            Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Snape's long coat had gotten caught in the automatic sliding door. It had taken him a couple minutes to figure out that he had to walk _toward_ the door to get it to open.

            "Stop smirking, you insolent child!" Snape snarled as he stalked past him, wrapping his now free coat protectively around his body. 

            "Or what? You'll give me a detention?" Harry laughed, an inevitable grin overcoming his features.

            "Shut it, boy."

*          *          *

            "Don't even think about it, Potter."

            "What?" Harry asked, feigning innocence as tried to sneak up on Snape with his shopping cart. Snape's long coat had once again proven to be a hazard; it kept getting caught under the wheels of the cart. 

            "Just get what you came here for so we can leave this hell."

            "Alright, alright." Harry steered the cart over to the lettuce and began to examine the heads carefully. Snape tapped his foot a little too loudly; Harry ignored him.

            "Harry?" 

            Harry turned. And gaped. Standing there, looking at him uncertainly was Malcolm. Dudley's-old-school-mate, Malcolm. Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, Malcolm.

            "Malcolm?" Harry said weakly.

            "It is you!" Malcolm exclaimed. 

            Harry forced a shaky smile.

            "Where have you been? I've was so worried about you! I woke up one morning and you were just _gone_! Oh, I'm so glad you're all right!" And with that said, Malcolm threw himself at Harry and wrapped him into a bone-snapping hug.

            "Nice – to see – you too!" 

            "Potter!"

*          *          *

            "It was _so nice running into you! Don't forget, 7 o'clock tomorrow! Don't be late!"_

            Harry groaned in trepidation, watching Malcolm saunter to his car.

            "So."

            "Don't you say a word," Harry snapped, turning away from the Cheshire cat smile on Snape's face.

            "Come Potter, _do_ tell me about this little scandalous affair you had over the summer. What was that charming young lad's name? Malcolm, was it?"

            "Oh, shove off and ruin someone else's life!"

            "Well, well, well. I never knew what a drama _queen_ you could be, Potter."

            Harry shot an obscene gesture with one hand at Snape. The older man laughed. 

            "Look here, Snape. Malcolm and I were together for one summer. One! But for some reason, he seems to think that he's in love with me, and was a clingy bastard. So I left for Hogwarts without telling him I was leaving, and haven't thought of him until five minutes ago."

            "And you have just been cajoled into going on a lovely reunion _date tomorrow. How romantic." Snape was smiling evilly and obviously getting a kick out of this. Harry smirked. He knew just the thing to get that look of his professor's face._

            "Which you will be attending, being my guardian and all."

            "….I hate you."

            Harry grinned.

TBC


	2. Date

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this? 

A/N: In case you were wondering, Harry is seventeen in this story. 

Oh, and in this fic, let's assume that men can get married, I mean REALLY married, not the 'civil unions', like in a church and all, with the ceremony. I guess that kind of makes this an AU fic, but hey, maybe that'll change in the future, eh? *crosses fingers*

**Marriage**

Chapter 2:

            "So where exactly are we going?" said Snape, sneering.

            "A nice restaurant. That's all you need to know," said Harry shortly, throwing a glare at the mirror image of Snape. He nervously fixed his collar, then smoothed out his shirt. Snape snorted and stalked out of Harry's bathroom. 

            "Oh, and change your jacket!" Harry called after him.

            Snape came back in, his face livid. "What did you say, Potter?"

            Harry turned to finally face the real Snape, hands on his hips. "I _said 'change your jacket'. It's too…wizard looking."_

            Snape looked down at his dueling robe. It was the closest thing he had to a muggle dinner jacket.

            "It's perfectly acceptable, Potter. Don't expect me to go out of my way to impersonate a muggle and _don't_," he held up a hand to silence Harry's protests. "Expect me to participate in this sham you're putting on as a _date_."

            "Fine!" Harry shouted, throwing up his hands in frustration and pushing past Snape, grabbing his own dinner jacket. "I don't know why I thought you would help anyway!"

            "Perhaps because your brain is the size of a walnut."

            "Argh!"

*          *          *

           "Okay, just relax; it's just a date," Harry muttered as he and Snape entered through the lavish doors of the restaurant.   
            "I don't know why you're telling _me_, Potter. _I'm not the one meeting up with my–_

            "I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to myself," Harry snapped, thrusting his coat into the abashed coat checker's hands. 

"Oh really. You know, some believe that to be a sign of the brain's incapacity to–          "Shut up."

            "That is the second time you've interrupted me in less than ten seconds. Why, someone would think you were raised by wolves, the way you behave."

            "Are you going to take away points, _Professor?_" Harry asked mockingly, pushing in front. 

            Before Snape could snap back, Harry stopped. Snape crashed into him.

            "Potter! Is your head on straight or –"

            "He brought his mother." Harry whispered, dread injected into his voice.

            Snape looked up. Sure enough, Malcolm was sitting beside a rather pudgy woman in a lavender dress. She looked pleasant – nothing to make anyone stop dead in their tracks, as Potter had done. Snape looked down at the boy's mop of hair.

            "What's the problem?"

            Harry turned to look up at him, his eyes wide with an almost amusing amount of fright.

            "Listen…can we go talk in the loo really quickly?"

            "What?" Snape glared down at him. 

            "Please?" Harry looked positively pathetic, his eyes wide and pleading. "Quick, before they see us!"

            Snape glanced at the chatting pair, glanced back at Harry, then nodded curtly. 

*          *          *

            "Oh, this is bad. This is so very bad."

            Snape watched incredulously with his arms crossed over his chest. Potter was pacing back and forth like a caged animal, muttering and generally 'freaking'. Yes, that was the term teenagers used these days…

            "Potter, what the blazes is going on?"

            Harry stopped and looked at Snape, face pale.

            "Er…remember when I said Malcolm was clingy?"

            "Vaguely."

            "Well..," Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Well, sometimes he got…scary, you know?"

            Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do elaborate."

            Harry heaved a sigh. "He used to be a friend of Dudley's. You know about Dudley, right?" 

Snape made an impatient gesture. "I know that he is your cousin. That is all."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he was. I mean, is. Anyway, Dudley and his gang used to beat me up. Malcolm didn't," Harry added hastily, seeing Snape's dark look. "Well, not really."

            "Did he or didn't he?"

            "He teased me and stuff. He might have hit me a bit when we were in grade school, but I don't remember too well."

            Judging by Harry's shuttered face, Snape thought Harry remembered _very well. _

            "Anyway, we saw each other again last summer and talked a little after my sixteenth birthday, about being…you know. Gay."

            Snape raised a slow eyebrow.

            "I see."

            "Yeah, er, so this summer we hooked up, went out a bit," Harry shuffled his feet, looking extremely embarrassed about sharing this with Snape. "And then he started saying that he loved me and all that." Snape rolled his eyes at the boy's eloquence. "And I _definitely_ don't love him. It was just fooling around, you know?" Harry looked imploringly at Snape, as though he would confirm what he was saying. 

            Snape began to wonder when Potter would get to the point. Some of his impatience must have shown on his face because Harry stepped closer to him, looking scared again.

            "I told him that and…he got really angry. It was like he was a different person."

            A thought suddenly entered Snape's mind. "He didn't hit you, did he?" he asked sharply.

            "No!" Harry said quickly; maybe a little too quickly. "No, nothing like that. Well, he did say a lot of mean things; things about when we were younger. Anyway, he apologized later. Told me he loved me again. I couldn't think of a way out of it. So I left." Harry stopped talking and looked at the tiled bathroom floor. Snape flexed his fingers around his arms edgily.  

            "The point, if you please, Mr. Potter. Why are you afraid of his mother?"

            Harry's reminiscing demeanor changed back to frightened again. "Don't you know anything, Snape? His mother's here! He didn't tell me she was going to be here! I think –" Harry dropped his voice to a hiss. "I think he's going to _propose!"_

            There was a long silence. 

            "Ah." 

            "Exactly." 

            Snape let out a long suffering groan. "Why me? Why must I always be drawn into these things?"

            "You're not the one being proposed to," Harry snapped. 

            "You could always say 'no', Potter. Or did that not cross your arguably small mind?" sneered Snape. "And furthermore, how do you know he will propose? Don't you think you're over-analyzing this?"

            "No way! He's crazy! He used to ask me what kind of ring I wanted! And I can't say no!" Harry hissed angrily. "His mother's here! I don't want to hurt him in front of her!"

            "He certainly didn't seem to have a problem hurting you." said Snape harshly. Harry glared.

            "Look. I don't want to cause a scene, nor do I want to say yes." Harry looked Snape square in the eye. There was a gleam there that Snape didn't like.

            "Just what exactly are you thinking, Potter?" said Snape warily. 

            Harry bit his lip, his eyebrows drew together, then he looked up at Snape with that "I'm-Harry-Potter-and-I've-got-a-plan" look that everybody knew. 

            "_You have to propose to me before Malcolm does."_

TBC      

A/N: Wasn't their little 'old married couple' banter in the beginning cute? Well I think so. I'm glad you all liked the first chapter. Oh, and abut the format. I'm trying to make it seem almost cinematic. In movies, you never see every second of someone's life. They always cut the scene to the next relevant part (for instance, I'm not going to write about Harry and Sev's journey in a taxi to the restaurant because it would seem pointless because nothing important happens). I'm sorry if you want more detail. This is how I'm writing it. I also think the format allows the reader to have a little more imagination about outfits, places, expressions, and all that stuff. It also makes the reader pay more attention to the dialogue, which I'm hoping you all find amusing, because I certainly do.  


	3. Proposing

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this? 

A/N: In case you were wondering, Harry is seventeen in this story. 

Oh, and in this fic, let's assume that men can get married, I mean REALLY married, not the 'civil unions'. I mean in a church and all, with the ceremony. I guess that kind of makes this an AU fic, but hey, maybe that'll change in the future, eh? *crosses fingers* GO MASSECHUSETTS (if you haven't heard, the courts in Massachusetts ruled that civil unions for gays is not enough and that gay marriage should no longer be denied there! I'm so happy! One state at a time! A city in New York, San Francisco, and New Mexico as well)!!!!

**Marriage**

Chapter 3:

            Snape stared at Harry for a long time. Long, as in three men had time to go and leave before either of them moved again. 

            "I have said it for years, but no one ever believed me, Potter. You are mentally unstable." Then he turned on his heel and walked through the door.

            "Snape!" Harry hissed desperately, trying to grab the man's sleeve. He succeeded, but Snape was stronger than his wiry frame let on, and Harry ended up being yanked after him. 

            "Snape, wait!" he whispered, now becoming angry. They were almost to the table.

            "Harry Darling!" 

            Harry cringed, then forced a smile.

            "Hello, Malcolm."   

            "Oh, Harry dear! What a delight it is to see you again!" Harry smiled feebly as Malcolm's mother, a frumpy looking woman named Elaine, stood up and kissed both his cheeks wetly.

            "And who is this charming gentleman?" Elaine gushed.

            The 'charming gentleman' rapidly turned into a thundercloud.

            "Oh, er, well…" Harry cast around for something to say. His brain still wasn't functioning properly after being shot down by Snape. "He's my friend…."

            Snape snorted and sat down in one of the chairs.

            "Oh?" Elaine sat down and looked at Snape interestingly, waiting for an elaboration.

            "Let's just call him my companion." Snape said shortly. "I wouldn't describe us as _friends_."

            Malcolm pulled out the chair and ushered Harry into it as a mother hen would shepherd a chick back into the nest. Then he looked around.

            "I need a chair."

*          *          *

            "Oh, Harry love!" Mrs. Dower exclaimed as the salad was taken away. "How I've missed hearing Malcolm talk about you!" She sighed theatrically and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "When you're not around, Malcolm just doesn't know which way is up!"

            Snape rolled his eyes as he caught sight of Potter's glued-on smile. Honestly, did the boy have no spine whatsoever? He'd faced down far worse than a Muggle woman before!

           "I hope you'll excuse me for saying this, Mrs. Dower –" Snape's scathing comment was cut short when Potter (brat!) kicked his shin rather hard. 

            "Yes, my dear?" The woman's eyes grew almost alarmingly wide with curiosity. 

            "Ah, that is, you seem to be wearing a lovely fragrance. It complements you so well.  I do hope you'll forgive my impertinence."

            "Why, of course Mr. Snape!" Elaine fanned herself and gave him a drippy smile. Potter smirked.

            Snape reached for his wine and took a long sip. 'Cheeky brat'

*          *          *

            "Harry, the chocolate soufflé looks marvelous. Shall we share it, love?"

            Harry squirmed with embarrassment at the 'love' word. He sneaked a glance at his professor and saw the man's smirk over the dessert menu; he quickly averted his eyes with shame. He'd never felt so humiliated in front of his Potions Professor, which was saying something, given all the times he'd been torn down by the man.

            "I, ah, I'm not really in the mood for chocolate."

            "Oh. Well that's all right, Darling. Perhaps you shouldn't eat anymore anyway…I don't want to make you nervous."

            Harry looked up, puzzled.

            "Harry," Malcolm breathed, looking pointedly at his mother, who nodded encouragingly. Harry froze. "There's something that I must ask you –"

            "Yes, Harry, there's something I would like to ask you too," Snape said in a crisp, professional tone, carefully setting down his menu.

*          *          *

            Snape was struggling to hold in the snorts of laughter that were threatening to emerge any moment. Here was the Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, being babied and talked to like a five-year-old. Moments like these were the reason he was still a professor: seeing Potter, the bane of his existence, being cut down to –

            "…I don't want to make you nervous."

            Hmm. Snape tuned himself into the conversation and looked up from perusing the menu.

            "Harry," the young man said with shining, anxious eyes. Snape tensed. The boy literally looked as though he were about to drop a bomb. As Malcolm cast a glance at his mother, a hot swoop of dread filled Snape's stomach. Was Potter right? Could he _possibly_ be right?

            "There's something that I must ask you –"

            Suddenly, Snape's instincts took charge and before he could form the words in his brain, his tongue said: "Yes, Harry, there's something I would like to ask you too."

*          *          *

            Harry almost fell out of his chair.

            "But, er…Mr. Snape, do you think you could wait just one minute? This is kind of important –"

            Harry shook his head violently. 

            "Don't fret, Mr. Dower, it will only take a second," Snape snapped irritably. He just wanted to get this foolishness over with.

            "But –"

            "Harry,"

            Harry crossed his fingers. It was odd…if someone had told him a week ago that he'd be praying for Snape to propose to him, he'd have stunned them and sent them to St. Mungo's in a box.

            "Will you marry me?" Snape spoke as though conducting a business transaction. 

            "Yes!" Harry gasped and put a hand to his nerve-wracked chest.

            "Good. I understand that it is customary to give a ring on such an occasion, but you'll have to wait until we get back home."

            "Oh, whatever, I don't care." Harry said quickly, eyes still wide and adrenaline still running through his veins.

            "Well then, that's settled." Snape turned back to Malcolm, his face smug. "Now, Mr. Dower, what were you saying that was so important?"

            Two sets of stupefied eyes gaped back at him, mouths ajar. 

TBC

Yeah that took longer than it should have. Sorry it's short. You'll get over it. Anyway, I hope I'll be faster with the next one. 


	4. Signs of Affection

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this?

A/N: In case you were wondering, Harry is seventeen in this story.

Oh, and in this fic, let's assume that men can get married, I mean REALLY married

**Marriage**

Chapter 4:

"Oh, God," Snape groaned, clutching his head in his hands.

"It's alright," said Harry, awkwardly patting his back. The taxi they were currently residing in swerved hard to the left and Snape groaned again, just avoiding hitting his head against the plastic seat divider.

"Erm…thanks for doing that, back there," said Harry gently. After he had accepted Snape's proposal, Malcolm had ran for the loos and Mrs. Dower had graciously congratulated them, telling them rather tearfully that they made a beautiful couple, before running after her heartbroken son.

"Please, Potter," said Snape through gritted teeth. "_Don't_ mention it."

Harry sighed and leaned back against the seat. He did feel a bit bad that Snape was so upset, but relief was the more dominant emotion in his mind. After all, how hard could it _possibly_ be to pretend to be a couple? They _were_ already living together…and it wasn't like Malcolm would want to see him anymore…

(time passes)

The telephone rang.

"Answer that, Potter!"

"Why can't you?"

"Because _I_ am _busy_, that's why!"

Harry scowled and threw down his Transfiguration text. The man was so bloody arrogant sometimes…

Harry stalked across the room to the telephone, muttering under his breath about Potions masters who didn't know how to use muggle things but didn't want to admit it before snatching up the phone and saying rather rudely, "Hello?"

"Oh, um…Hi, Harry. It's Malcolm."

"Oh – hey Malcolm. What's up?" Harry nervously started digging into the floor with his be-socked toe; what could Malcolm want?

"Well, nothing," said Malcolm as though this was obvious. "I just wanted to invite the two of you out to lunch sometime."

Harry blinked. "Oh…um, I don't want to sound rude but – why? I mean, aren't you kind of mad at me?" Harry glanced up nervously at Snape, whose head had just appeared around the bend of the living room, eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the one-sided conversation.

"Oh please, Harry, you could never be rude. And of course I'm not mad at you!" said Malcolm sweetly. Harry winced. "I missed you, that's all. And I'd like to get to know the man that swept you off your feet."

'More like, kicked my feet out from under me,' Harry thought. "Wow, Malcolm, um…are you sure? I mean, I don't want to put you in an awkward situation –"

"Harry, it won't be awkward, I promise! I mean, it's not like you would be acting all lovey-dovey in front of me or anything like that. It would just be a friendly lunch, that's all!"

Severus, who had been watching and trying to decipher the possible reasons for Potter's balking, began to panic as once again, he saw the boy's eyes take on that 'I'm Harry Potter and I'm making up a crazy plot right this second' look.

"Alright, well that sounds great, Malcolm. All right, tomorrow at 'Finney's Fish and Chips'…we'll be there! See you, Malcolm." Potter put down the fire-call like contraption and raised his eyes slowly to meet Severus', as though trying to placate him before the blow.

"Well?" Severus sneered, leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front. "Out with it, Potter. What have you roped us into?"

Potter ran a hand over his face, disturbing his glasses, then righted them and met Severus in the eye.

"Malcolm wants to have lunch with us tomorrow."

"I gathered as much," said Severus.

"Yeah…," Potter was looking shifty again. Severus raised an eyebrow. "Look, he's the kind of guy who will stick to something forever, unless he's put off so…,"

Severus remained unimpressed with Potter's waffling.

"'So'? So what?"

Potter winced, then looked back up, eyes resolute. "I think the only way we can get him to leave us alone is to act revoltingly, disgustingly, ridiculously in love."

Severus stared for a long time.

(time passes)

"So this is the magnificent brain child of Potter," Snape snarled as he and Harry walked the streets of London, hands intertwined.

Harry sighed yet again, but refused to rise to Snape's bait. The last time he had talked back, Snape had retaliated by squeezing his hand numb.

"What other acts of depravity will we be committing in public, Potter? Passionate embraces? Affectionate hair-adjusting? Flirtatious whispers?"

Harry ignored Snape's mocking tone and replied as reasonably as he could, "Whatever it takes to get Malcolm to understand that we're not together, and never will be."

"And what makes you think he even _wants_ you back, Potter? I'd hate to think we were doing all of this for nothing."

"You weren't the one involved with him, alright?" said Harry, beginning to lose his patience. "And hopefully, we won't have to do much to get him to go away. Maybe some lovesick looks, some name calling –"

"Oh, that sounds delightful…how does 'miserable waste of magic' or 'brainless oaf' sound?"

Harry paused before saying, "Aren't those names what you call Neville?"

Snape seemed a little thrown, before smirking, "I suppose that's true. I must think of new names for you."

Harry let out a sarcastic laugh, then fell silent, trying to ignore the stares he and Snape were attracting. It seemed that even in the city of London, homosexuality was not universally accepted. Unconsciously he leaned into Snape and held his hand tighter, earning nothing except a raised eyebrow from his professor. They walked this way for another block, reaching a traffic light, until Snape leaned down and asked, "Are you all right?"

Harry jumped, startled. He hadn't realized how close he was to Snape; the man barely had to lean over to reach his ear.

"Oh, sorry. I was just, um –"

"Noticing the sneers?"

Harry looked up. Snape appeared almost understanding.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Hmm. You'll grow accustomed to it." Snape muttered, continuing to walk, pulling Harry gently along.

Harry didn't say anything. What did that mean? Did it mean Snape was gay too? Or did he mean he was just used to being sneered at? Harry remained lost in his thoughts all the way to the restaurant, with Snape moving silently with him.

TBC

So, these chapters for this particular story are going to stay kind of short, like little episodes, until feelings start developing more. Hope you like.


	5. The Love Word

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this?

A/N: In case you were wondering, Harry is seventeen in this story.

Congrats to England for getting the domestic partnership law passed!

**Marriage**

Chapter 5:

Severus sneered at the glaring yellow writing that spelled out 'Finney's Fish & Chips!' between two crudely drawn smiling fish.

"You would think that two fish would be less than thrilled by the prospect of being rolled in bread crumbles, then plunged to their death by means of boiling water," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"You _would_ say something like that," muttered Harry, rolling his eyes.

Severus glared at the boy, then smirked. "And as my _lover_, you would respond appropriately. Go ahead. Laugh at my wit."

Harry stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide. "What was that?"

Severus raised a corner of his mouth and said, "Maybe I will enjoy this. After all, when will a better opportunity to torture the Golden Boy come my way?"

"Oh, piss off," said Harry, entering the door of the tiny restaurant, tugging Severus after him. "And by the way, they're already dead before they get fried."

Severus raised an eyebrow and allowed himself to be led through the door.

"Harry," said Malcolm rather breathlessly. "I'm so glad you came. Here, let me take your coat."

Severus couldn't help but smirk at Harry's queasy expression as he was manhandled out of his jacket.

"Thanks, Malcolm, but I can do it," said Harry, waving Malcolm's hands off of his shirt, which was now in need of straightening after being so roughly disturbed.

"Perhaps I shall assist you," said Severus imperiously, stepping forward; it was time to put the boy's ridiculous plan into action.

Harry glared at him and said with gritted teeth, "Yes, perhaps you shall."

Severus moved toward him and gently tugged on the bottom of Harry's shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, then brushed off imaginary dust from the smaller man's shoulders before pushing a lock of away from Harry's face.

Harry stood still during the entire process and didn't move until Malcolm coughed and guided Harry by the elbow into a booth. Before the young man could slide in next to Harry, Severus side-stepped Malcolm and easily took his place, leaving Malcolm to sulk momentarily, then plunk down across from the pair.

"What would like to eat, Harry?" asked Malcolm, placing the laminated menu in front of the other man's face.

"Perhaps he would like fish and chips, as that is the only option this establishment seems to offer," said Severus, looking down at Malcolm over his nose, somehow managing to insult Malcolm even though it was Harry who had chosen the small eatery.

Malcolm snapped back as though he'd been spit on, which was the desired effect, and Severus curled his lip. Then, with a possessive air, he slipped an arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry immediately stiffened. Severus inwardly growled and bent his head so that his lips were just barely brushing against what Severus grudgingly admitted was a perfect sea-shell ear and whispered, "If you want your plan to work, I suggest acting as though you are somewhat enjoying my presence." Harry shivered. "Now, act as though I have just said something soddingly romantic or remarkably obscene, whichever you prefer, you little twat." Severus concluded his command with a barely-there peck to the lobe of Harry's ear. He drew back and concluded that Harry was indeed an exceptional actor, because the boy's blush could rival the ketchup bottle that was arranged among the half-filled tarter sauce bottles, and a silly grin had taken up residence on his face.

Harry could barely breathe. When he had felt Snape's arm around the back of his neck, he had reflexively flinched and tensed; after all, how often does your most-hated professor sling an arm around you? But then, when Snape's dark, rich whisper assaulted his ear, he had suddenly felt like an asthmatic. There was no air, his lungs had stopped functioning, and surely he would pass out from it all, right here, in Finney's Fish and Chips. It got much worse as soon as Snape hissed out the word 'obscene' because an electric current had sparked through his thighs so fast it hurt. He could just hear Snape call him a twat, which crazily sounded almost affectionate, when his world exploded behind his eyes – he probably should have mentioned that his ears were extremely ticklish…

"So!"

Harry jerked his head up to see an apoplectic Malcolm. Oh, he'd forgotten he was there…

"So!" Malcolm repeated, tapping his menu against the table and biting his lower lip white.

"Yes, we heard you, Mr. Dower," said Snape along with a sneer, long fingers beginning to pet Harry's shoulder.

"So what will you have, Harry!" Malcolm practically shouted, with a look of determination etched firmly across his features as he bent to peruse his menu.

"Oh…," said Harry vaguely; the fingers now caressing the side of his neck were extremely distracting. "Er…I thought I might have….erm…,"

"Perhaps we should share an order, love," said Snape, picking up Harry's menu and glancing at it.

"No, don't say that!" said Malcolm, brandishing his menu at Snape. "Harry _hates_ it when guys call him 'love', don't you Harry?"

Harry had just been thinking that it didn't sound so bad when Snape said the 'l' word, and he said rather stupidly, "Oh, well…I don't really mind it, I suppose."

"But you _hated_ it!" said Malcolm, leaning across the table, eyes wide as though he were trying to hypnotize Harry into agreeing with him.

"Perhaps he only hated it because the wrong person was addressing him as such," said Snape, chin raised and lip curled. Harry cringed as he saw Malcolm's eyes go wide and mouth gape. He could only guess what Snape's face must have looked like to cause _that_.

"I have to use the loo!" Malcolm declared, standing up so fast that he jostled the table. Then, he bolted, leaving Harry to stare after him in shock. Snape immediately pulled his arm away from Harry and he wiped his hand on his napkin, a look of distaste on his face. An awful chill run through Harry's body, and he glared as he asked, "If it was so awful to touch me, then why did you?"

Snape sneered down at him. "I am merely performing this charade because you requested it, although why I agreed to go along, I have no idea."

"Well why don't you figure it out," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. "And stop starting every sentence with 'perhaps'! It's getting old. Like you." As soon as Harry said it, he bit his cheek, feeling as though he had overstepped the bounds, and he glared at his menu, angry with himself for even caring if he had.

"Touché, Potter," said Snape, refolding his napkin and placing it on the table. There was a heavy silence, and Harry wasn't sure who he was angrier at, Malcolm, Snape, or himself.

"I thought you agreed to go along with it because you wanted a chance to torture me," Harry snapped suddenly.

"Oh, yes," said Snape, sounding decidedly disinterested.

"What, forgot did you?" asked Harry tartly. "Must be all those potion fumes." Harry suddenly felt emboldened – it was Snape who he was angry at. Yes, Snape, for being such an utter bastard. "Or maybe I was right before. Short-term memory…you are getting old, after all."

Snape took a sip of Coke from his plastic cup and smacked his lips at the unfamiliar fizzy sensation before saying, "Re-using material is never wise, Potter."

"What?" exclaimed Harry furiously. "You re-use insults all the time! Always going on about my parents, my fame, saying I strut, the same cock-and-bull insults every time!"

Snape placed his cup on the table a little too firmly to be considered unaffected. "That is simply because none of it seemed to get through your thick skull. I see that I was wrong."

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time," Harry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. He huffed out an angry breath and waited for Snape to respond, but he didn't, leaving Harry to slouch down and stew in his own head.

A minute later, Snape cleared his throat. "That boy has been in there for several minutes. Is it safe to assume that we can leave this dump?"

Harry bristled. This 'dump' happened to be one of his favorite places. "If we leave now, he'll want to meet up again," said Harry shortly. "We have to make sure he's completely put off."

"Then I suggest I go in to see if he hasn't drowned himself in there."

"You do that," said Harry.

Snape glared at him, then stood up and strode towards the door marked, 'Mates'. Harry's lips couldn't help but twist into a pout, and he harshly bit his bottom lip to stem it.

The suggestion to check up on the boy wasn't so much made out of concern for Malcolm. Severus had really just wanted to get away from that brat of a child whom everyone called a hero. Severus took a deep calming breath once he was behind the closed door, then walked towards the mirror over the sinks. He stared at his glowering reflection and peered at his face – not that he was checking for wrinkles; appearances didn't matter, and Potter did not affect him in any way...was that rivet between his eyebrows always there?

Severus was so busy studying his reflection that he didn't notice one of the stall doors slowly open.

"What are _you_ doing in here?"

Severus swerved around at the sound of the bitter, icy voice. "Mr. Dower," he said, smoothly regaining his composure. "I was checking to see if you would be rejoining us – Harry was worried–"

"Bullshit," spat Malcolm, charging towards the sinks and jerking the faucet. Severus quickly stood back and allowed the young man room as he splashed his splotchy face. It was extremely disconcerting to see how the annoying-fly-like Malcolm had somehow increased in size just by being angry. Was this what Harry had meant when he had described Malcolm as 'scary'?

"I take it you won't be rejoining us–"

Malcolm let out a derisive laugh. "I think I'd vomit if I had to watch you two again. It's really sickening."

Even though Severus had said practically the same thing to Harry earlier in fewer words, he couldn't help but feel offended, and he sneered, saying, "And when you and Harry did the same thing, it wasn't?"

Malcolm let out that ugly laugh, and looked at Severus through slanted eyes as though he was above him. Severus felt a muscle in his jaw twitch, and he stood at his full height, furious that this impudent boy thought he was somehow intimidating him.

"Let's just say, no one likes watching pedophilia," said Malcolm, face twisting with mockery and revulsion.

Severus reeled back in shock, then his face slowly contorted and he leaned forward until Malcolm was shrinking back, apprehension covering his face. "What did you say to me, _muggle_?" Severus asked in his silkiest hiss.

Malcolm stared, confusion replacing fright. "Huh?"

Severus blinked, and he stepped back. His guard had fallen; it was time to go. "Mr. Dower," he said in his dark imperious way. "This meeting is officially over. Do not contact Mr. Potter again."

Malcolm sputtered. "You can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh, can't I?" asked Severus, leaning forward again.

"Are you threatening me?" Malcolm shouted back.

"Perhaps," said Severus. He threw Malcolm the look that he reserved for weaklings like Neville Longbottom, then turned on his heel and strode through the door.

"Potter," he barked upon reaching their table. Harry sat up and stared at him, eyes wide at the stormy look on his professor's face.

"We're leaving."

TBC


	6. The Ring

Summary: Harry and Severus hide out in Muggle London on Dumbledore's orders. They run into Harry's not-exactly-ex-boyfriend, who wants to propose to Harry. How will Harry get out of this mess? What does Severus have to say about all this?

**Marriage**

Chapter 6: A Ring

Snape stalked out of the restaurant, Harry trailing after him. He didn't know what had happened between Snape and Malcolm in the restroom, but it couldn't have been anything good. Snape looked like a – well he looked really, really angry.

"Keep up, Potter!"

Harry frowned. He _would_ be able to keep up if Snape would just bloody slow down….

Thankfully, a red traffic light forced Snape to stop moving. Harry trotted up to the corner and pointedly ignored the nasty look that Snape threw him. Harry was just wondering if Dumbledore would believe that Snape had fallen into oncoming traffic by accident when he caught sight of Mrs. Dower standing on the opposite side of the street. She hadn't spotted them yet, but it would only be a matter of time before the light changed.

"Hold my hand," said Harry quickly, grabbing for Snape's clenched fist.

"Unhand me this instant, you –"

"Just hold my sodding hand, you greasy git!"

"Potter, what is the meaning of this?"

"Malcolm's mother, she's right there!" Harry hissed, pointing rather obviously. His movement caught the attention of the bag-toting woman, and she waved back enthusiastically, apparently interpreting Harry's wild gesture as a greeting.

"Oh, shit," moaned Harry.

"_Do_ tell me how you manage to get yourselves into these situations, Potter," said Snape with a cheery smirk.

"Just shut up and hold my hand, _please_."

"Now, now, Mr. Potter, no need for begging. Although I admit, I quite enjoy the sound…."

Harry flushed, but otherwise refused to respond and instead plastered a smile onto his face. "Act like we're on a nice afternoon stroll," muttered Harry out of the corner of his mouth. He seized Snape's elbow and clung to him as they crossed the street. To Harry's dismay, Mrs. Dower did not cross, instead choosing to wait for Harry and Snape to reach her.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried rapturously.

"Er, hello," said Harry, his smile wavering. Snape smirked.

"And Mr. Snape!" Mrs. Dower exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Oh, how is the happy couple?" she asked, looking up into their faces, her own shining with exhilaration.

"Ecstatic," said Snape.

"Oh – yes," said Harry, feigning ecstasy. "Yes, it's been, er, so great. It's really, um, wonderful –"

"Oh you _must_ let me see the ring, Harry! I've been just dying to see!" She peered down at Harry's left hand anxiously. Harry paled.

"But where is it? Surely you've bought the boy a ring by now!" Mrs. Dower exclaimed, swiveling up to look at Snape, her mouth rapidly pursing with disapproval.

"Of course," said Snape, drawing himself up to his full height. "The ring needed to be resized."

Mrs. Dower's eyes widened and her mouth opened as she nodded, digesting this information. "Yes, that can happen sometimes," she said wisely. Harry shrugged and smiled apologetically.

"Well I guess I'll just have to see it some other time!" she said, perking back up. Harry's smile vanished.

"Yes, yes, that will do nicely. I'll just see it another time then! Oh, but look at the hour! I must be off – I'm meeting Malcolm soon – I'll pass on your greeting shall I?" And with a beaming smile at the pair of them, she bustled off across the street, oblivious to honking horns and angry shouts.

Harry and Snape stood together looking very much like the mannequins in nearby store windows, watching Mrs. Dower weave in and out of the crowd before finally disappearing. Harry wasn't aware that he was still clinging to Snape's arm until Snape abruptly shook him off with a surprising snarl. Harry turned to stare at him, slightly alarmed at the expression on Snape's face.

"DAMN! Damn it all to HELL!" Pedestrians leapt out of the way to avoid Snape's spit as it flew to the pavement. "As if I've got the gold to buy _you_ a ring–"

"I'll pay for it," Harry cut in, anger starting to cloud his features. "No one said you had to–"

"Of course I do, Potter, it has to look legitimate!"

"Well then we'll split the price! I've got money, I've got plenty–"

"Of course you do," said Snape, his mouth twisting bitterly.

"Don't start – look, let's just get it over with now – look, there's a jewelry store, let's just–"

"God DAMNIT!"

* * *

An annoying chime rang through the brightly lit jewelry store as Harry cautiously pushed open the door, Snape skulking behind him. Glancing around, then breathing a sigh of relief after noting that no one else was present, Harry entered the store and quickly moved towards one of the transparent countertops.

"Okay," he muttered, bending over and peering at the velvet display. "Let's just pick one and be off –"

"Oooo, customers!"

Harry quickly stood up straight and turned to see a tall, thin young man bound out from behind a curtained doorway. He hurried up to them, his hands flapping with excitement; he gave the impression of being made of tissue paper. Harry chanced a peek at Snape. The older man's eye was twitching.

"Looking at rings, are we? Getting engaged? Oh, how sweet, you brought your father to help you!"

Harry began to cough violently, not daring to look at Snape.

"Er, actually, we – er, what I mean to say is–"

"We wish to purchase rings with which to signify our domestic partnership, as well as an engagement ring," said Snape with a surprisingly dignified voice. Harry looked up at him to see Snape's earlier fury masked impeccably.

The salesman's expression flickered before hitching back into place, his smile even more manic than before, and he flung his hands into the air with a joyous whoop.

"Oh, how _delightful_!" he exclaimed. Harry was relieved that they were the only customers in the store. "We have some new designs that are just perfect for the modern-day couple!"

Harry was just about to mutter that there was nothing modern-day about Snape before the man in question stepped forward after the salesman, who had materialized behind a counter near the back of the store.

"Feast your eyes on these!" ordered the man, sweeping his hand grandly over the counter. He reached into the glass case from behind and quickly pulled out several velvet bases, each containing three rings. Quite honestly, Harry thought they all looked the same, but the salesman began to expound upon all the little details that made each ring unique. Harry began to fidget – he didn't really care which ones they bought, he just wanted something cheap so that Snape wouldn't gripe…. He couldn't help but be annoyed that Snape looked quite interested. Damn, the man was a good actor….

"Er," said Harry, cutting off the salesman's monologue on the symbolism of one inlayed diamond versus two inlayed diamonds. "Which one is the least expensive?"

The salesman looked mortally offended.

Snape chuckled next to him. Harry gaped at him, more shocked by the warmth in his voice than anything else. "My young love is so thoughtful – I am a professor, you see… he worries that my modest budget will not allow for such finery – but I have told him time and time again that no amount of money could limit our love." Snape looked from the salesman (who looked disturbingly enchanted) to Harry with an adoring look. It was only his eyes that gave him away, which were communicating "shut UP!" in unspoken directness. Harry raised an eyebrow at him, then said spitefully, "Fine then. Which one is the _most_ expensive?"

This request did not seem to offend the salesman at all.

"Well if you are looking for _finery_," he said with a jaunty wink at Snape. "Then you need to look no further…than _this_!" The salesman whisked out a velvet base from under the glass counter as though revealing a rabbit from a top hat, looking quite smug. Harry couldn't help but be impressed – he had been expecting something covered with gaudy jewels, or at least something obscenely large. The ring's band was a shiny gold color and formed an infinity symbol at the center, with two perfectly proportioned diamonds, one in each loop of the infinity, twinkling up at them. Harry found himself quite transfixed by the sight; it was unlike any other ring he'd ever seen. The salesman's voice dropped to a hushed whisper, and words drifted in and out of Harry's consciousness.

"White gold…fourteen karats…brilliant cut diamonds... _elegant_…_unique_…symbolizes eternal, never ending love… nine-hundred and eighty four pounds."

"We'll take it," said Snape.

"NO!" Harry whirled around, jerking out of his trance. "It's way too expensive! I don't want it – we aren't even–"

"And I'll take two of those gold bands there, please," Snape continued, ignoring Harry. The salesman hurried to comply.

"Stop it, Snape! You can't afford this!

"Hush, Potter–"

Harry seized the front of Snape's jacket, looking up at him desperately. "I don't want it – it's too expensive – it's ugly–"

"You don't think it's ugly, you were positively enamored by it–"

"No I wasn't! I don't want it; honestly, you could give me a plastic ring from one of those coin machines at the grocery store if you wanted!"

"Potter, stop being hysterical or I will be forced to sedate you. And let go."

Snape pried Harry's fingers off of his jacket and Harry stood there feeling deflated as he watched Snape exchange money with the salesman. Harry noticed rather numbly that the galleons changed to paper pound notes on contact with the salesman's hands; the salesman appeared oblivious to this as he chattered on about how lovely Snape's purchases were, and how he hoped that Snape and his husband lived in wedded bliss for the rest of their lives. Snape was looking politely interested, nodding and murmuring his appreciation at the right moments. Harry felt rather sick, and he turned and walked stiffly out the door, muttering about needing some fresh air.

TBC.


End file.
